Nobody Ever Thinks
by Lolita Afternoon
Summary: Hmm...one quidditch cup celebration, two twins that are not each other's, and a whole lot of relatives. PPGW, after war fic. Summary sucks, but I don't want to give away the plot. Read and Review!


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Shipping: George Weasley & Padma Patil**

**Rating: Somewhere between Teen and Mature**

**Hello readers! Welcome to chapter one of "Nobody Ever Thinks"! I'm so excited you picked this story to read. The shipping of this fanfic isn't very common, nor is the plot. Well, the plot could be familiar, but I haven't come across one **_**exactly **_**like this one, in four years of reading fanfiction. XD **

**I had another George/Padma story going, but I deleted, mainly because it wasn't gaining reviews, and I also had no idea where I was going with the plot. For this story, I've got it all mapped out. A banner and everything! **

**Enjoy, and please remember to review!**

* * *

Chapter One

"WOOOO!"

Two red headed twins stumbled their way down a grassy hill. They were stark naked, and painted green from head to toe. The stars sparkled above them, and they hooked arms, dancing merrily. A bottle of whiskey was clutched in each of their free hands, and they were shouting loudly.

"IRELAND! IRELAND!"

"LONG LIVE LEPRECHAUNS!"

Ireland's Kenmare Kestrels had just won the International Quidditch World Cup, and the Weasley twins had wasted no time in celebrating. Whipping out bottle after bottle, they had the almost entire campsite pissed drunk, including the losing team.

Why they were currently sporting their birthday suits; nobody knew.

"Gred!"

Fred Weasley sat his bare bottom on a patch of grass. "GRED!"

George Weasley spun around, collapsing beside his twin. "I'm not Gred..." His lips formed odd movements to get the words out. "I'm Forge! I'm Forge, you idiot!"

Fred looked at his brother tearfully. "I'm sorry Gred." He patted his brother's face. "I'll never call you call you Forge again."

George's eyes flickered, processing the statement. "Uh...okay?"

"FRED! GEORGE!"

A third red headed boy tramped down the hill to him. He seemed out of breath, but he said loudly, "Merlin! We've been going mad looking for you two!"

Ron Weasley panted. "Dad's got Bill flying over the camp! Did you know someone dumped fifty galleons of firewhiskey into the cake that's sold at the concession stand? Bloody toddlers are staggering all over the place!"

As Fred and George stood up, they let out drunken smirks. Ron stifled his hysterical laughter as he saw his brothers' state of dress. He snorted. "You two have gone beyond drunk. Let's get you to camp...where's your clothes?"

Fred pointed to a fire in the distance. "We needed to start the bonfire." he giggled.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Try not to trip over yourselves."

As they neared the Weasley tent, Hermione and Ginny came out. "Ron have you--" Hermione choked at Fred and George. Her face turned scarlet, rivaling the Weasley's hair. Scurrying into the tent, she could be heard gasping for air.

"FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!"

Molly Weasley jumped in front of her sons. Her face displayed utter mortification. "FRED! GEORGE!" she screeched in their faces.

They winced, as did everyone within a hundred miles.

"HAVE YOU GONE BLOODY MAD! HOW COULD YOU? GETTING DRUNK, PARADING AROUND IN THE NUDE!"

Ron and Ginny sniggered.

Molly clutched her heart. "Prancing around, everything on display! Oh the embarrassment! What have I done to deserve this!"

"Oh Mum." Ginny cut in. "It's not like it's a big deal. The twins hardly ever wear clothes anyways. They walk around starkers in their flat. They've shagged so many girls at this camp it's nothing to worry about!" Molly turned crimson.

"Get. Them. Inside. Now."

"Like I'm going to be seen toting around a naked brother of mine. I've already had to that for Ron when he and Hermione 'fell asleep' in the library." Ron's face clashed horribly with his hair, and Hermione squeaked from inside.

Molly was bordering on purple now, and she gripped her sons' arms firmly. "Inside--"

"NOOOOOO!!"

George broke away from his mother's grasp. "I want to celebrate!" He ran off, doing the Irish jig, or at least attempting it. Everyone stared after him horrified, and even Fred looked a bit embarrassed at his twin's...departure.

* * *

Parvati Patil happily sat around the bonfire, accompanied by Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. Her sister Padma was also in the surrounding, although she wore a slightly different expression.

"Aww Paddy!" Parvati whined, throwing her arms around her twin. "Cheer up! Ireland won!"

"I was rooting for England..." Padma could smell heavy liquor on Parvati's breath. Come to thing of it, she could smell it everywhere. It was like everyone in the Quidditch camp had become drunkies. Padma herself was taking a drink, but it was a simple rum and pumpkin juice.

She pried Parvati off her. "Vati darling," Padma began, using her sister's nickname, "Lay off the whiskey." She turned to pick up her jacket from the ground.

Parvati nodded her head to Dean, who passed the bottle to Seamus, who emptied half it's contents into Padma's cup. They giggled.

Padma raised an eyebrow. "What are you lot laughing about?"

"Nothing love!" Seamus placed a slobbery kiss on her cheek. Dean patted her on the back.

Looking at them suspiciously, she picked up her cup. Snickers filled the air, but when she looked at her companions, they seemed to be focused on a firefly. "Bloody drunkards." She muttered, before sipping her cup.

Dean and Seamus roared with laughter, and Padma looked up to see her sister wrestling with her hair. The large braid was snaked around her throat. Padma blinked. "Idiot..." She continued to drink her 'juice, unaware that it had been addled by three drunk Gryffindors.

A few specifically nine drinks later, Padma stood up, wobbling. She blinked, her eyes unfocused. "P-Par..." she hiccupped, "P-Par-Parva- Prvati? I didn't know we had another sister..." she looked at Dean. "She looks kind of...odd...hi!" She grinned. "I'm Padma! My sister is Padma! I mean...my sister is Par-Par-P-vati. Damn, why do you have a confusing name?"

She shook her head, and snatched up the picnic blanket that Parvati was sitting on. The sudden removal caused Parvati to do a twisted somersault thing. "Ow!"

Padma waved her arms above her head. "MAD! You're all bloody mad! I'M GETTING OUT OF HERE." She marched away, only to be tripped over a log. "I meant to do that...you potatoes..." She toddled off, picnic blanket in hand.

* * *

As Padma stumbled away, she passed a lot of bonfires. The dancing flames attracted her, but the drunkards didn't. She frowned, heading off into the forest. It was dark, and eerie, and in her state of mind, Padma was slightly terrified.

Of course, she wouldn't have been so terrified if she wasn't so drunk. Padma clutched the picnic blanket to her chest and scrambled through the trees. The familiar noises of the camp seemed to drip further away. The tree branches hung low like black claws reaching out for her. The animal noises seemed to roar in her ears. Padma could have sworn she heard cackles. Why did that tree move? Why were it's limbs extending towards her?

Padma was in a panic now. She turned around, lost. "Potatoes?" she called out, hoping that Dean, Seamus or Parvati had followed her. "Potatoes?" The liquor seemed to wear off on her mind, and she truly was lost, without a clue what to do.

Suddenly a hand clamped down on her shoulder and Padma screamed bloody murder. She spun around and pounced on her attacker. It was a failed attempt, as Padma weighed somewhere around 100 pounds, and her assailant was a 6'1 monster with red hair.

"OW!"

"Get OFF!"

"_OW!_"

George shielded himself from whatever had come flying at him. He'd only thought that the person was Ginny or Hermione, being that they were so small. But the nails that were digging into his arm were very different.

"OI!"

George wriggled himself away and held Padma by her shoulders, at an arm's length. "Hold on...I recognize you..." he squinted.

"So do I..." Padma mimicked the motion. "You're Ron's brother. One of those horrible pranksters!"

"Now hold on! I'm not horrible!" George said, blinking like mad. "You're his Yule ball victim!"

"I have a name!"

"As do I!"

It's amazing how even in the most drunken of times, British people can maintain a proper tone, and a clever response.

Padma surveyed George. "Why are you bloody naked?"

"Why are you dressed?" he shot back.

Padma stick her tongue out and bent down. Spreading her blanket, she sat on it. "Well. Be on your way then." She waved him off. Truth was, she really didn't want to be alone out here, but why would she want the company of a tall, gangly, _naked_, prankster?

George saw the spread blanket as an invitation to sit down, and so he did. "I'm not leaving. I dunno how to get out of here." He rubbed his hands together as a cold wind blew them close together.

Padma sighed as she thrust her jacket under George's nose. "Here, Weasley twin." She was going to drape that jacket over his shoulders, but instead, covered his nether region with it. "At least you can maintain some decency while I'm around."

"Why thank you, Patil twin."

"I have a name."

"You already said that. Instead of acting like your own personal parrot, why don't you tell me it?"

Padma narrowed her eyes. "It's Padma."

"I think little miss Padma needs a hug." George held his arms out somberly.

"I'm fine, thank you." The wind had picked the worst time to blow by, making her teeth chatter. "Why the bloody hell is a wind blowing during the bloody summer??" she asked irritated.

"Aww, you don't have to blame the itty bitty wind. Come here." He tackled her with a hug.

"Get off!"

"But I'm cold!" George whined. "It's not fair. You're fully dressed and you give me a wimpy jacket. Would you like me to die of...the cold air disease?"

Padma blinked. She was cold as well, and he was warm. Unconsciously, she snuggled further into his hug before saying, "This is purely for warmth purposes, you potato..." They shifted so they were lying side by side, with Padma pressed into George's side. His heads was above hers, and she leaned her head into his shoulder.

"Okay."

"I'm serious...what are you doing?"

"Nothing!"

"Why is your hand there?"

"Where?"

"_There._"

"Oh... It has a mind of it's own?"

Padma's face was close to his neck, and she could smell the firewhiskey that he had obviously drank. But beneath that, there was a smell of grass, and butterbeer. The combination was odd, but Padma found herself liking it. It was nice. Her fingers brushed over his skin. And she looked up

It was like Padma's brain had a control that switched from 'rational' to 'drunk needs', and some little bugger had flipped it towards the needs. "I think you should move away Weasley..."

"Forge. Gred. I mean George."

"Pardon?"

"I have a name, and it's George."

"Oh. Well, George I think you should move off me."

"Sorry..."

_No! why are you mad? He smells really, really good!_

"Uh wait!" Padma sat up. "I'm cold now."

_Couldn't you come up with a better excuse, you blooming idiot?_

George blinked. "So...hugs?"

"Yeah...I mean if you don't mind." She said hastily.

George didn't. Padma had sparked something within him. She looked really pretty, with long, shiny black hair tumbling down her back. She had been focused on something a few minutes ago, and George had found himself staring down at her eyelashes. It was odd, looking at someone's eyelashes. He'd never noticed them on anyone before. They were like toes. There, but no one ever thinks of them.

Her eyelashes were long, and black, like her hair. There were a lot of them, and George's hand reached up to his own eye, to see if he had that many.

"Are you crying?"

Her voice broke into his thoughts, and he blinked, forgetting his finger was there. "Ow!!"

"What?"

"I poked my own eye!!"

"Let me see." She pried his hands away from his face. "Here, open it...open...okay, now hold still." Her light brown eyes made contact with his blue green ones. For one moment, the only thing that mattered in the world seemed to be the connection between their gazes.

Padma's breath hitched in her throat. His eyes pierced into her own, searching. She had no idea hat he was looking for, and the intensity was too much for her to handle. Breaking the contact, she said quickly, "Your eye looks fine." She backed away from him. "Be careful next time. First you wander into the forest naked, then--"

Whatever she planned to say next was cut off by George's lips pressed into the side of her mouth. Maybe he had intended to kiss her on the lips, but his brain had a momentary lapse of drunkenness...Padma didn't know, nor did she care. Her own thoughts were centuries away from her current desires.

_What am I doing??_ The rational part of George's head roared. _UI don't know if you've noticed, but you're drunk! She's drunk! You're in the bloody woods! _

His hands wove themselves into her hair, bringing her closer. This time, George did manage to catch her lips with his own.

They tumbled onto the picnic blanket.

* * *

**So?**

**Did you find it to your liking? Disliking?**

**I love opinions, good or bad. Please review! Any feedback encourages me!**


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